"My brother," he said, as Philip stood looking down at him, "tell me, am I now a rich English signore like the other signori?"
"Of course," answered Philip, about to sit down in Dorothy's chair; but Martin motioned him away, and drew another seat forward.
"This belongs to her, my signorina," he said; "it is not for you or for me."
"Why not?" asked Philip, half laughing. "She is only a girl like other girls."
Martin made no answer, but repeated "like other girls" under his breath, as if it was a new idea to him.
"My brother," he resumed, after a pause, "when I was poor, without a penny, long ago, there was a girl I loved. When a man loves a girl he wants her for his wife. I wanted this girl to be my wife, but she spat at me."
"I am glad you did not marry her, Martin," said Philip, thinking how far worse it would have been if he had discovered his brother with a wife and children.
"She wouldn't spit at me now," he continued proudly. "I am a rich signore now, and I should laugh at her being my wife. She is down there, in the mud. But, my brother, listen to me. You say my signorina is a girl like other girls, and I am a rich signore. Would she laugh at me if I love her and want her to be my wife, like the girl I loved long ago?"
For a minute or two anger and a strong feeling of repulsion kept Philip silent. It was too monstrous to think of patiently. This rude peasant, this scarcely reclaimed savage, to be lifting up his eyes to the sweet English girl, who had only stooped to civilize him out of the pure compassion of her heart! But the feeling died out as quickly as it had been kindled. It was possible for Martin to love her, and, if so, how much he would have to suffer!
"She would laugh at me," said Martin in tones of the deepest and saddest conviction; "she would not look at me. See, I am a dog to her. She would turn her face away from me, and never look at me again. She is so far away above me, but you are close to her. You are like her, very grand, and very beautiful, and very clever. I am down, down in the mud. I cannot learn your ways; they are too hard for me. Oh, my brother! if I was like you, my signorina would love me and be my wife."